Thursday 24 June 2010
I am not an infant...
...I'm a real grown-up!
OK, it's not as good as the line in The Prisoner. Bite me. But I'm making a serious point, here.
My friends and I were just sitting in my mate's house, minding our own business, when one of her neighbours came in and was chatting away, 19 to the dozen.
Exactly how old does one have to be, if one is disabled, before people stop talking to you as if you are a babe in arms?
She referred to our wheelchairs as "little scooters". Grr.
I was wearing a quite a large t-shirt, as I'm quite a large gal, which was referred to as something like "your little England shirt".
And we got the "why don't you have electric chairs?" discussion.
I'm sure there were other things, but I probably zoned out...
HONESTLY - we're adults, and we'd like to be treated as such, if it's all the same to you.
Now, where did I put my dummy?
4 comments:
I really can't begin to imagine how annoying it must be for you when people do this.
I get the occasional "get over it" or "pull yourself together" type thing, and that's bad enough.
Hi Dev, always a pleasure to have a visit from you!
It is indeed. I get so cross but sometimes I just have to bite my tongue.
I bet you do - before my family understood I had REAL problems with depression (albeit very infrequent and very mild) I think that's what they thought, too. I expect they just put it all down to hormones, but NO. They make you weepy, they don't (often) make you want to end it all, do they?!
Trouble is, they're all "get on with it, keep calm and carry on" types, and I'm more of a"lose my head and shout or cry" kinda gal. Oh, well.
No, I can't, and I really don't appreciate that kind of comment on my blog, thank you.
Kindly go away.
I didn't moderate this blog because I didn't want to discourage people, but now I shall think again.
Thank you, whoever you are, for further destroying my love for humanity.
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